White Lie
by Sakura Sango
Summary: "The Avatar does not need any extra baggage. He needs what is correct. Even if it hurts."


Title: White Lie.

Author: Sakura Sango

Rated: PG

Disclaimer: I don't own it nor do I imply that I do. I am only borrowing the A:TLA characters and world for my fun, only to return them once I have had my fill of them. (Though they may be slightly more wrinkled/torn/disturbed/or whatever else then when I took them.) That means I don't make money off of them- or else I wouldn't write fanfics on free sites- I'd be sitting in a pool of money

Pairing: Implied Aang/Zuko; Aang/Katara, Sokka/Suki

Summary: "The Avatar does not need any extra baggage. He needs what is _correct_. Even if it hurts"

A/N: This came from a prompt that my friend Yo gave me. But yeah, it's been a while since I posted anything on here. Should I continue writing Avatar fics or should I just hide again?

_x-x-x-_

_Call me a sinner, call me a saint  
Tell me it's over I'll still love you the same  
Call me your favorite, call me the worst  
Tell me it's over I don't want you to hurt  
It's all that I can say. So, I'll be on my way_

_'Call Me' By: Shinedown_

_x-x-x-_

It is all he can do to stare at the retreating back, face set firmly to a neutral expression, mouth set in a firm line. He wishes that Azula's attack had killed him, that was less painful then the slowly breaking of his heart. He wants to have her try again, though she is not sane enough to do anything more than scream at the invisible demons that attack her from the padded room.

The chants of his name barely phase him, as he wrestles with emotions that he has never had to deal with (even Jin had not hurt this much), and it takes his uncle's hand on his shoulder that reminds the newly crowned Fire Lord that he must keep up appearances, even in the middle of overwhelming pain.

Lungs expand as the flames that surround the courtyard lower; they rise and fall rhythmically with his controlled breathing. So slightly from their normal flickers that no one notices. No one except for the man who taught his nephew and the boy that spent a good part of his life around the fire nation prince (both good and bad times).

He wants to murder the water nation girl in her sleep, wishes he did so when she was sleeping in his guestroom just days ago. But it was an opportunity wasted. She will be gone soon. Gone with him, the only one he had loved. And now Zuko finally understands what his uncle had meant when he explained the difference between true love and crushes.

The hints are subtle; as the chants to his name rise so does his temper. The tight fitting lid on his anger doubles over, boils over the container it is housed in. His uncle and Aang pick up on the small cues at the same time. The flames tremor on their wicks as he watches the Avatar's fingers lightly brush against the dark skin of his lover.

Iroh grips onto the teen's arm, nails digging hard enough into the muscular flesh to make a point, but not to harm. And it helps as captive flames break away from the invisible force and dance freely. He wants to go back inside, to pretend behind walls; not here in front of a crowd.

Aang turns around slowly from the crowd, near the gate; he is not hard to spot as the flocks of fire nation citizens part the path for him and his friends. His wide eyes catch Zuko's for a second as he searches the other teen. It takes every bit of his training with his father to hide what he feels. To close his soul off from his eyes. To leave nothing more than an outer shell. All his emotions that had slipped through are tightly sealed again as the boy stares. Hurt registers in the Avatar's eyes, and he only hopes that the boy knows not to take revenge.

"I thought," Iroh whispers as Aang turns around, his arm wrapping around Katara. Zuko wants to feel the arm wrap around him, wants to push his face into the Avatar's neck. "I thought," Iroh repeats as he watches his nephew, "that you would have told him what you felt. It was so obvious."

Zuko glances out over the gang as they gather at the gates. Katara clings to Aang tightly- too tightly for the Fire Lord's liking, as Sokka jumps and waves his hand as if to tell everyone good-bye. Suki stands off to the side with Toph as they watch the others, faces close as the whisper secrets. He wishes he was still part of the group, wishes he could be the one with his arm around Aang and ignoring the whispers.

"I did what was right."

'_Zuko,' Aang stands on tiptoes as he plucks a leaf from the low lying branch before twirling it between his fingers. 'I know this may be weird to tell you, but I really want to be with you.' Smiling he leans up, lips pressing against Zuko's in a chaste kiss, arms wrapping around the sturdy neck, fingers criss-crossing. His body pressed against the muscular one._

_Every night was like this, hiding and coming together when others were gone. Nights of passion. Nights that could not continue._

_It takes Zuko everything to push away. White lies hurt, that is what he thinks as he begins his rehearsed speech. 'No. This cannot continue Avatar Aang,' he avoids the boy's eyes knowing it is easier this way. 'I only was around you because there was no one else. That's not the problem now. I have people who will flock to me. I don't need you anymore.' Lies build on lies as the Fire Prince steps back, ignoring the boy as he runs away, unshed tears in his eyes._

"The Avatar does not need any extra baggage. He needs what is _correct_. Even if it hurts." Turning he walks back to his chambers. Parties do not match his mood tonight.


End file.
